The elevator lurched and slowed.
“Wha…what’s happening?” Ben placed a hand on the side of the cab to steady himself.
The elevator’s emergency lights came on, dim in the bright of the day.
“I…I don’t know. The elevator stopped moving.”
“I figured that part out.” Ben looked at the floor-indicator lights over the door. “Does this happen often?”
“No. Well, once before. In 2011, a power company employee working on the grid that feeds the city made a mistake and pulled the plug on San Diego. Lasted for better than a day.”
“Anyone get stuck in elevators?” A bead of sweat appeared on Ben’s forehead.
“Yes. It even happened here. No worries, though. This is a modern building, which means—”
The elevator lurched again and began a slow descent.
Ben pulled a handkerchief from his suit coat and dabbed at his brow. “That didn’t take long. Power must be back on.”
Stanley moved closer to the glass wall of the cab and looked down. “I don’t think so. Traffic lights are still out.”
“Then…?”
“Our elevators have emergency power. All the elevators in the building will be moving to the first floor. The power will probably be back on soon.”
“How are you going to get back to your office?”
“I’m not going to climb twenty-five flights of stairs, I can tell you that. I’ll just wait in the lobby for a while.”
The elevator cab reached the first floor, and the doors opened slightly slower than usual. People in the lobby murmured. Some seemed amused; others were put out.
For Stanley, it was a bit of an adventure.
Donny Elton piloted his power wheelchair out of his room and started doing laps about the condo.
“Donny? What are you doing?” Rosa didn’t expect a response. She got one anyway. Donny laughed and clapped his hands. She couldn’t recall him laughing before.
4
Lockdown
Senator Ryan O’Tool looked put out. The sudden interruption was an annoyance to him.
To Jeremy, it was potentially much more. He had to jog through the halls of the NSA building to catch up with the rapid pace of General Holt. O’Tool had already broken into a light sweat.
“What’s the rush, General? It was probably just a fluctuation in the power grid.”
Jeremy took a position two steps behind the men, close enough to hear without inserting himself into the conversation. Holt had a reputation for having a mind that worked like a bulldog’s jaw: clamp and lock in place until the work was done. Holt took the same approach with important tasks. Focus on the issue, and don’t let go until happy with the outcome. Jeremy had seen the man work eighteen-hour days for weeks on end.
“I hope you’re right, Senator. I’ll arrange a comfortable office for you to wait in until the lockdown is lifted.”
“No way, General. I’m here to see what you and your team really do with the millions we send your way.”
“It’s hundreds of millions, but I guess you already know that.” The general rounded a corner and stopped so abruptly that O’Tool ran into him. Despite the senator’s mass, he failed to budge the general. “I think you would be more comfortable in one of the offices or in the cafeteria.”
“I didn’t come to be comfortable. I came on a fact-finding mission. This is probably a waste of time and effort, but the least I can do is watch you work.”
“Very well, Senator, but please don’t get in my way. You’re right—this is probably nothing serious, but we get paid to take everything seriously, so until I know better, I’m going to assume we have a problem.”
“Ah, the military mind.”
How Holt kept from decking the senator was beyond Jeremy. They walked to a corner office and marched into the lobby. The Air Force captain at the desk came to his feet the moment Holt entered.
“As you were, Captain.”
Jeremy had been in this office many times and heard Holt call the captain by his first name. The formality was for the senator’s benefit.
“Report.” Holt stopped at the wide, metal desk. The office foyer was the size of a living room and held not only the desk but also two sofas and two padded chairs for people waiting to see the general.
“Sir, the NSA director and his team are on alert and are monitoring news and intelligence sources. The base commander has the base locked down. No one in or out.”
“Anything to indicate this is more than a downed power line?”
“Yes, sir. We have reports that power is out in several places along the Eastern seaboard, including DC.”
Holt’s eyes narrowed. “Anything from intel?”
“Not yet, sir. But it’s been less than five minutes.”
“Understood. The colonel and I will be in the sit room. I want all info piped in there. Make that happen, Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m going to the sit room with you.” Senator O’Tool made it sound like an order. When Holt hesitated, he added. “I’m the sitting chair of Armed Services. My security clearance is as high as it gets. Not that I need it for a power outage.”
Jeremy caught the two emotions in Holt’s eyes: fury and pity. “You will stay out of the way, Senator. I don’t mind showing you around. I don’t mind answering your questions, but you need to know that I take what I do very seriously. If this is a simple blackout, then well and good. It’s a nice real-world drill for my people. If it’s more than that, then I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.”
“Don’t need to worry about me. I came to learn this stuff. Who knows, it might even save your budget.”
Jeremy took a step back just in case the general decided to do a little boxing. He didn’t. Instead, he spun on his heel and headed out the door and down a hall to a room situated in the center of the building.
The sit room was dim and had no windows. The walls were plain and covered in sound-deadening material. A table ran the length of the long room and could seat twenty people when necessary. Jeremy oversaw dozens of scenarios and drills from this room. Computer monitors lined the walls on each side of the table, and a bank of monitors made up the wall opposite the entrance.
The table was made of a light wood along the edges and dark panel down the middle. A phone with a digital screen was positioned within arm’s reach of every seat. The thick, cobalt-blue carpet deadened ambient noise.
Before the door finished closing, an airman entered and went to a control center in one of the corners. A moment later the monitors came to life, adding their light to the dim space.
“I want CNN and FOX news. Get me a local DC station and one for this area.”
“Yes, sir,” the airman said.
“I want department heads on the Wall.” The name referred to the segmented monitors that covered every inch of the far wall above three feet.
“Yes, sir.”
Holt turned to Jeremy. “Colonel, bring the senator up to speed on this place.”
“Yes, General. As you have probably guessed, this is one of our situation rooms—”
“One of? How many are there?”
Jeremy waited a second before answering. “Several. This is our primary room. Another one is on base, and a few others are in protected areas around the country. If Fort Meade were compromised, we could move to another facility.”
“But that would take time. How do things get done while you’re in transit?”
“Key personnel are able to control the work while on the move, much like the president does. He might go to Camp David, but he takes White House communications with him. There are also redundant teams. If we’re knocked out, others can take over in short order.”
“Who are these others?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, Senator.”
“I’ve already said my clearance—”
“It’s need-to-know, sir.” Jeremy quickly moved on, hoping for no more interruptions. “This is the
processing center, where decisions are made based on information fed to the general and his team. We can host twenty around the table, and there is room for aides to sit along the wall. Have you been in the White House situation room, sir?”
“Can’t say that I have.” O’Tool seemed embarrassed by the admission.
“It’s similar to this. Both have state-of-the-art communications and satellite connections. We have a few more toys. From here we can videoconference with Homeland Security, the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, the CIA, the FBI, the National Reconnaissance Office, the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, and all the intel components of the military. Of course, that includes the NSA.”
“I don’t think your mandate includes intelligence work.” O’Tool looked suspicious.
“It doesn’t. We don’t do direct intelligence, but we have to work with those agencies to protect the interests of the United States. We leave the spy work to the spies. Our job is to deal with cyber attacks.”
The voice of a CNN newscaster filtered into the conversation. It took only a moment for Jeremy to know they had little information. Not surprising. Just over five minutes had passed since the power blinked out and the building went on auxiliary power.
“It’s just a power outage,” O’Tool said. “You didn’t set this up just for me, did you?”
Holt’s jaw tightened, and Jeremy thought he would soon hear teeth cracking. “You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. So, no, we didn’t set it up for you. I doubt we could get CNN to cooperate.”
“Just checking, General. That’s all. Still, it seems a little overkill, don’t you think?”
Jeremy thought it best to intervene. “Let me tell you why this is not an overreaction. Most likely, this will pass in an hour or two, but one of our greatest concerns is the safety of the power grid. More than 315 million people live within our borders, all of them in need of electricity. Unfortunately, our power grid is highly susceptible to attack.”
Jeremy folded his arms. “More and more of the control systems for the three basic grid areas serving the lower forty-eight states are connected to the Internet. It has made many things more efficient and made monitoring systems instantaneous. It has also made it possible for hackers to bring down our system.”
“Hackers? Really? A bunch of pimply-faced—” The phrase was similar to what Jeremy had used earlier.
“Excuse me, Senator, I’m thinking a little larger. We have discovered software programs sleeping in grid control systems. Not one malware, but several. The sophistication of these programs points to more than just mischievous kids. The Internet being what it is, we can’t prove who the culprits are, but we do have our suspicions.”
“Such as?”
“China and Russia. We know both countries have mapped our infrastructures. We also know that sophisticated software is designed to shut down the power grid, most likely in case of a war. You can imagine how hampered our intelligence and military operations would be without power.”
The senator raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t those organizations able to work off the grid? I was told they were.”
Jeremy nodded. “They are, to an extent. Even so, imagine what happens in our country when 315 million people are suddenly without power. It wouldn’t be pretty. Let’s back up to the pimply-faced hackers you mentioned. When the hacking team known as Anonymous was arrested in 2011, only two or three fit the image most people have of hackers. Just to be clear, one person can do a lot of damage. In 2000, an Australian man—apparently angry with the company he worked for—rigged a computerized control system to dump 200,000 gallons of sewage into rivers, in parks, and on the property of a Hyatt hotel. It doesn’t take much.”
“Sir,” the airman said.
“What is it?”
“The blackouts are spreading. I’m getting reports that New York has gone dark. So has much of New Jersey.”
“Put it on the screen.” The general took a seat at the head of the long table. Jeremy sat to his right. O’Tool, looking like a man who didn’t want to stand alone, pulled out a chair a few spaces down the table.
A stylized map of the country showing the three power grid areas appeared. The map showed state lines and capital cities. It also indicated every military base. Most of the country was colored green, indicating unaffected areas. The areas without power were black.
The black was spreading like mold.
“Southern California, Arizona, and parts of New Mexico have been affected. There’s no pattern to it.”
Holt rubbed his chin, his eyes mere slits as he studied the image. “Put up the nuclear power plants.” Yellow dots appeared. “Just like our scenarios.”
“What?” O’Tool looked confused.
Jeremy answered. “Nuclear power plants are designed to shut down if there’s a sudden loss of power. They need power to control the nuclear reaction. No power, and things go bad quick. Remember Japan after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami? The flood knocked out the diesel power generators used to control the cooling system. It went downhill from there. When a plant registers low voltage, backup systems kick in, and the plant is shut down for safety.”
“They’re a bear to start up again,” Holt said. “Gravel Neck in Virginia is shut down. Mineral, near Richmond. Calvert Cliffs and Douglas Point here in Maryland. This isn’t good.”
Jeremy focused on the West Coast. “San Onofre in California is out.”
“How many do you think will be affected by this?” The abrasiveness had left O’Tool’s voice.
Jeremy couldn’t tear his eyes away from the image on the large screen. “We don’t know. I’ve never seen so many blackouts and in different zones. What happens in California shouldn’t affect anything in this half of the country.” He rubbed his forehead. “There are 104 nuclear plants in 31 states, Senator. I don’t know how many will shut down.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing something?” O’Tool sounded angry.
The general pinned the man with his eyes. “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean nothing is being done.” He turned to Jeremy. “Get the department heads in here. I’ll call the president.”
Jeremy rose without hesitation and marched from the room. He had trained for this and hundreds of other scenarios. He was prepared.
So why did he feel like vomiting?
5
Stanley
Stanley moved through the crowds on the sidewalks. They grew as employees in various buildings used the sudden loss of power as an excuse to leave their desks for an unplanned break. People laughed, and strangers struck up conversations. Stanley thought it odd that something as inane as a power outage could garner such attention. He had no doubt that the power would be back on soon.
He let his eyes drift up the tall buildings that made up San Diego’s iconic skyline. Most were shaded or reflective, but he could see people standing on the other side of the glass, watching the growing hubbub below.
Traffic on Kettner had slowed to a crawl, and Stanley could only imagine the confusion at Kettner and West Broadway and other intersections. The outage was costing him time, but he didn’t care. He had reached the point in business where worry was a distraction. He had made enough money to retire comfortably. Still he worked because it defined him. What else could he do? Traveling with Donny was almost impossible. Donny didn’t enjoy it, and that meant Stanley didn’t enjoy it.
He chastised himself for the bitter thought. Having a special-needs child came with a price tag other parents didn’t have to pay. The few times he and Royce had traveled alone required a crew of nurses and caregivers. Donny didn’t like new faces. That meant Rosa had to move in while they were gone. It worked, but she had to ignore her family for the duration of the trip—something that made Royce extremely uncomfortable.
So this was his life—a wealthy and esteemed San Diego CEO with a trophy wife who was as beautiful as she was smart, respected by a hundred and fifty employees…and yet he still felt confined, held back.<
br />
He pushed the thoughts from his mind. Like many high achievers, he was prone to small bouts of depression, but they seldom lasted long. When the blues arrived, he treated them with extra caffeine and work. He also counted his blessings, including this unplanned break in the morning.
Stanley walked half a block to his favorite coffee shop. Beanies was casual and well lit and played music from the seventies. Always a plus. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to whip up his usual latte without power, but they always had dispensers full of the coffee of the day.
“Hey, Burt,” Stanley said. “You got anything hot?” The store was empty. Paper cups rested on tables where patrons sat before the lights went out.
Burt was a college graduate with a degree in philosophy. The kid was bright—he just needed to find himself. In some ways, he reminded Stanley of Donny.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Elton. Still got a couple of pots of Kenyan. Brewed them right before everything went dark.”
“Pour a large cup, will ya?”
“Sure, but I can’t ring it up. Register isn’t worth anything without juice, so we’ll just make this one on the house.”
Light poured through the glass storefront. A battery-powered emergency light cast an eye-stinging glow. “Thanks. Your customers desert you?”
“There’s more excitement out there than in here.”
“They’ll be back. We’re all coffee addicts now.”
“The beans have been modified to affect your brain that way. It assures our continued success.” Burt had already poured a generous amount of half-and-half into the cup. “You taking a break?”
“I was in the elevator when things went dark.”
Burt’s eyebrows shot up. “You were stuck in the elevator?”
“Not really.” Stanley explained about the new safety mechanisms that allowed the elevators to descend to the first floor. “Of course, not every building has that. I imagine hundreds of people are cooling their heels in the older buildings. It’s happened before.”
“I hope things get back to normal soon. I have a daily quota to meet.”
Digital Winter Page 4